ys called it 'Molly's Orchard Home' in my mind."

"I can think of no place in the world where I'd rather spend the
summers. Would I not be near all of my people? I am so glad you asked my
advice about the bungalow! Now the doors open the way I want them to;
and the cellar has an outside entrance; and the guest chamber has those
extra inches on it, besides the nice big closet; and the attic steps are
big enough to get a trunk up. Did you really and truly think it was
going to be my home when you were planning it?"

"I could only hope and hope and plan and dream. For almost six years I
have known that it was you or nobody for me. Ever since you came to
Wellington, a slip of a girl, it has been all I could do to keep from
claiming you. You were too young. I knew it would not be fair to try to
tie you to an old dry-as-dust like me until you had seen the world a
little. But oh, how hard it has been not to speak out all that was in my
heart! And when I thought I had lost you, first to Jimmy Lufton, then to
your cousin, Philippe d'Ochte, life was very bitter, and I looked
forward to years of misery and longing."

"'Way down in my heart of hearts," confessed Molly, "I knew that you
cared, and the knowledge of it kept me from thinking seriously of any
other man. It was awfully conceited of me to feel that way when you have
never given me any real reason for it. At least, you had never written
or spoken your love; but the language that is neither written nor spoken
is understood by the heart, and my heart told me you loved me when my
intelligence would have me understand that you did not."

"Bless your sweet heart for understanding me and speaking a good word
for me! I wish my heart could have done as much for me. I could not see
how you could care for me, and still I hoped and prayed. And now what is
to prevent our being married right now and spending our honeymoon
abroad?"

"Well, it seems to me that a young man who could possess his soul in
patience for six years to find out his fate, might wait a while longer
now that he knows his answer," teased Molly.

"But all my patience is gone, used up, worn out! I want you all the time
to make up for this terrible nightmare of a winter that I have passed
through. What is to prevent our getting married, if you really and truly
care for me? Oh, Molly, be good to me! I could not stand it if the ocean
separated us again!"

And Molly was good to this extent; she said: "Let's see what